


Chapter 39.5

by Axey1677



Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:46:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8357848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axey1677/pseuds/Axey1677
Summary: Based after season 3 - 
Claire has abandoned the white house. Frank struggles to survive the absence of his love, will he be able to pull through his bitter isolation?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> This is the first Fan Fiction I have ever uploaded or shared with anyone, I know the title isn't that great or creative but I was drawing a blank.   
> I wrote this before season 4 came out and this was how I imagined Frank could have reacted to Claire leaving.  
> Please leave a comment if you would like another chapter or any constructive criticism you may have.  
> Thank you for reading.

The White House residence seems so much larger than normal; Claire’s missing presence was certainly getting to Frank. This isn’t the first time he has spent the night without Claire; however, it is the first time he felt truly alone. Knowing that she won’t be coming back anytime soon didn’t help. As Frank approaches his master bedroom, he finds himself stopping at the closed doors and turning to look at Claire’s room; he decides to walk into her room and closes the door. Turning around slowly, the silence was deafening making him feel powerless. The only form of control he could find was to clench his fist as he allowed the silence to swallow him for a few moments. Memories of Claire shot through his mind as he went to lie down on her bed. He tries to escape the memories by pulling himself towards the pillows, letting out a long sigh ending the silence if just for a moment. The pillow still smells of her perfume making the memories come flooding back, tears start to form at the corner of his eyes. After awhile he finally lets go and the tears begin to fall down his face, accompanied by a soft whimper ending the silence.

There’s a muffled knock coming through the closed doors, it sounds as if someone’s knocking on his bedroom door thinking that he was inside that room. Frank has a sudden thought that it could be Claire so he quickly gets up from the bed and reaches the doors, but stops before he opens them. “Get it together Frank, it wont be Claire,” he whispers. He opens the doors, forgetting to wipe the tears from his face, only to see Doug’s back as he waits for the presidential bedroom doors to open. “I’m.. Um., over here Doug,” he says sounding still a little upset but plays it off as if he’s tired; “What do you want?” he asks as he tries to sound normal. They both walk towards the middle of the hall to meet properly. 

“Sir, I think you may have forgotten about your meeting with Bob Birch.” Doug says noticing the tear tracks and decides not to mention them. “It was supposed to start 20 minutes ago. He’s was getting more irritated the longer I stalled him, so I told him I would look for you since you weren’t in the Office anymore.”

“Oh for fuck sake,” Frank said clearly agitated “tell him I’m not feeling the umm, best right now, just reschedule it.” Doug could already tell something wasn’t right with Frank but it wasn’t like him to fake being sick to get out of it. 

“No problem Sir, I’ll schedule him back in a few days or so; when ever you’re feeling better.”

“Just make it happen, I’m going to bed.” Frank says as he walks towards his room and shutting the door behind him, preventing Doug from continuing the conversation. 

After hearing Doug’s footsteps disappear down the hallway, Frank turns away from the door and heads for his desk; pouring himself a glass of bourbon. He swallows it in one smooth swig and pours another – leaving it on the desk – before heading towards his ensuite. Once the lights were on he walks straight for the mirror; looking himself in the eyes. Damn it Frank you idiot, he thinks to himself as he notices all the little indicators of his break down earlier. His eyes still a little bloodshot and puffy from the tears and the shimmery tear tracks down his face, knowing Doug is rather observant he clearly would have seen these. He turns the tap at the sink on and cups his hands together, filling them with water; he splashes his face a few times before turning the tap off. Grabbing the hand towel off the rack next to the sink and drying his face before leaving the ensuite. He slowly slides his shoes off while removing his dress shirt; he drops the shirt on the floor, unbuckles his belt also dropping the floor then bends to take his socks off. Leaving on his undershirt and pants he grabs the bourbon he poured earlier from the desk and heads towards his king size bed. Now standing at the side of the bed he swallows the bourbon whole again placing the empty glass on his side table, he flicks the switch and turns the lights off before pulling the duvet down and crawling into bed.

* Few Days Later * 

Frank hasn’t left the residence once in the last few days allowing his Vice President, Donald Blythe, to do some of the Presidential jobs for the first time since Frank was put into power. It’s not like Frank to give up the power of being president for a few days let alone allow Donald do anything important. 

Frank is still in his bed; quite hungover from the night before, he pulls the duvet covering his head to prevent light from hitting his eyes and making his pounding headache worse. When he notes the sound of footsteps walking down the hallway and stopping just before his door; knowing that the secret service men usually wont enter the residence, he assumed it was either Doug or Seth. A few moments past before the person at the door began knocking, “Will you just come in and stop knocking!” he yells sounding annoyed at the idea of being disturbed. The door opens and before he pulls his head out of the duvet, he mutters, “ and close the fucking door” just loud enough for Doug to hear. 

Once the door clicks shut, Doug starts speaking “Sir, you haven’t come down to the Office in 3 days, are you feeling any better?” still using the sickness excuse, ignoring the evident smell of different types of alcohol. 

“No!” he grumbles in response, Doug sensing the short temper on him. 

“The press have been asking questions such as where you are and what you have been doing. Seth told them that your feeling under the weather and you should be back on your feet soon enough”

“Well that’s what I pay him for,” Frank snarled, pulling his head out from the duvet and gradually pulling himself from the comfort of his bed. He’s wearing an alcohol-stained undershirt and wrinkled trousers. “I was going to come down yesterday but I decided not to” now standing he looks Doug in the eyes and finishes his sentence, “we can’t afford for other staff members falling ill,” Doug detecting his sarcastic tone.

“Sir, I don’t think you would be ‘contagious’ however come down when you are feeling better and we can get back to work as usual,” he responds not taking anything Frank says personally.

“Look, we can drop the whole I’m sick routine, clearly I’m not and you know it,” he says placing his index finger and thumb on his eyes slowly bring them together to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just say what you need to and leave. I have a terrible headache and would like to hurry this along so I can get back to bed.”

“Alright, I came here to see if you were okay, well that and umm” Doug began to hesitate.”

“Just fucking say it Doug!” Frank said raising his voice. 

“Petrov called yesterday, he wants to talk to you,” he says trying to ignore Frank’s furious expression.

“Tell him to fuck off! I’ll talk to him when I want something from him.” Frank said walking towards his desk and picking up an almost empty bottle of beer. “Leave me now,” he mutters looking at the bottle.

“Excuse me, Sir? I didn’t quite catch that.” 

“Leave me, NOW!” he roared.

Doug understanding that Frank is irritated; he decides its best to do what he wants; he leaves the room, closing the doors behind him again. Once those doors shut Frank threw the bottle across the room in pure rage and watched it shatter against the wall.

Frank waits a few minutes before exiting his room to prevent him from running into Doug on his way out. He heads straight for the kitchen down the hallway, once there he opens the fridge and grabs the last beer bottle. Turning around to the island bench in the middle of the room, he places the bottle down as he looks around the room trying to find the bottle opener. 

“MEECHUM!” he yells loud enough for the Agent out side the residence to hear him, the door opening not long after accompanied by footsteps hurrying down the hallway. 

“SIR!” Meechum shouts slightly concerned for Frank.

“I’m in the kitchen” he responded calmly. 

Meechum jogging into the kitchen to see Frank just standing near the end of the island bench, “Sir, I thought you were injured,” he says relieved. 

“I cant find the bottle opener, do you know where it is?” ignoring what Meechum just said.

“It’s over here,” Meechum said professionally as he walked out of the kitchen and over to the living room table, where lies 5 empty bottles of beer. 

Frank grabbed his beer and followed the Secret Service Agent into the next room. “Thank you, Ed, I couldn’t remember where I put the bloody thing,” he says as he walks past Meechum and reaches for the bottle opener. Frank sits down on the armchair before opening the bottle and tossing the opener, which slides off table landing on the floor. 

Meechum bends down to pick it up and placing back onto the table, “Sir is there anything else?”

“Can you just sit with me for a while?”

“For you sir, I could spare a few minutes,” he says with a slight smile as he makes his way around the table to the end of the couch nearest to Frank.

After taking a mouthful of his drink he says, “So how have you been? We haven’t spoken for a while.” 

“Well, things have been somewhat quiet lately so it’s been easy work.”

Frank lets out a slight chuckle “things have been quiet for you because I haven’t gone anywhere in the last few days.”

“Yeah well that’s true,” Meechum says with a little smile. “Can I ask you something?” his tone changed slightly as he glances towards all the empty bottles. Frank nods while taking another mouthful of his beer, “Okay, well... I’ve noticed lately you’ve been drinking a fair bit lately, is it because of Claire?” he says knowing the answer but thought if Frank spoke about it aloud it might help him recover faster.

Frank chugs his still somewhat full bottle of beer before opening his mouth to say, “Hey, can you do me a favour? I know it’s not your job but can you take this;” handing Meechum a large amount of money, “and go buy me as much alcohol that will get, I don’t care what it is.”

Meechum looks down at the money in his hand and takes a moment to consider what Frank’s asking. “No,” he states placing the money on the table as he stands up, “I’m sorry, Sir, I will not buy you any more alcohol… at least not while I’m still on duty.”

“What!?” Frank says raising his voice with frustration. “Fine! I’ll find someone else to buy it for me.”

“No you wont,” Meechum responds quickly, “that would mean having someone else seeing what I’m seeing now and if that gets leaked, well its just bad press.”

“Are you threatening me?” Frank says getting really aggravated. 

“Sir, I care about you and I would never threaten you,” he says letting out a small sigh. “I want you to wait until I finish my shift around 7pm and I’ll bring as much alcohol you want.”

Frank rolling his eyes decides its best not to argue anymore, it certainly didn’t help with his headache. “Fine, just don’t forget.”

Meechum nods and leaves Frank so that he can return to his duties, Frank watches him leave before getting up from the chair himself. Checking the bottle in his hand hoping there was still more left before placing it with the others and walks back into his bedroom. Avoiding the broken glass from the beer bottle he threw earlier, he enters his ensuite and turns the taps on for the bathtub. Allowing the bathtub to slowly fill, he takes off his undershirt chucking it to the side of the room before sitting on the edge of the bath as he waits for it to finish filling. A few minutes later he turns the taps off, undoes his belt and sliding out of his trousers and boxers then gets into the warm water. 

Frank woke up suddenly as his head slid under the water, pulling himself up to a sitting position; he wipes his face and looks at the clock on the sink. About an hour has passed since he was in the bath, he stays sitting for a minute allowing himself to wake up a little more before getting out of the bath. He grabs the towel from the rack and wraps it around his waist then heads for his room. Wandering over to his chest of draws across the room, once there he opens the top draw - which is filled with socks and boxers - grabbing a pair of boxers and placing them on top of the draws. Taking the towel off his waist he dries himself then tossing the wet towel aside and he grabs the boxers, which he then slides into. Opening the next draw down, he pulls out a white undershirt and in a few swift movements it was on. After deciding that he should perhaps wear pants in case some unwanted visitors drop by, he makes his way to his closet. He pulls a pair of neatly ironed navy blue trousers from a hanger and pulls them on not bothering with putting a belt on; even without his belt his pants sit comfortably on his waist. 

After a few minutes Frank decides to look around the room for whatever alcohol he can find, technically I’m not breaking my word to Meechum, he tries to justify to himself as he reaches for a half empty bottle of whiskey off his bedside table. He doesn’t drink it just yet, he instead continues looking for more alcohol. About five minutes passes and he has 2 other semi-empty bottles in his hands; one has some bourbon and another one with whiskey, as he tries to remember where there could be some more, he leaves his room and heads back to the living room.  
“Ah, there might be some in the office,” he says to himself placing the bottles on the table with all the empty beer bottles and turns around walking towards the office. It’s been a while since he was in the residential office, the last time being when Claire said she was leaving him. Moving as quickly around the room as he could he looked in a few of his hiding holes for the drinks he’d have when he worked late into the night and once he found 2 more full bottles he left the room, doing his best not to think about Claire but the thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone. On his way back to the living room he opens a bottle of whiskey and begins drinking trying to drown the thoughts of Claire. Placing the unopened bottle with all the others as he sits down in the armchair again, looking out at the view from the large set of windows as more thoughts of Claire came to him. He’s remembering that this is where he told Claire about how he had to sacrifice her career as Ambassador, as he sighs he brings the whiskey in his hands up to his lips and begins to drink.

There’s a knock on the door to the residence, “Sir, can I come in my shifts over?” said a familiar voice through the door.

“Yeah” Frank replies. Shortly after the door opens and closes; he hears footsteps walking towards the living room not bothering to turn around and greet Meechum properly. 

Once Meechum got closer he noticed that there were more bottles on the table, “You said you wouldn’t get more until I finished my shift.”

“Well, I didn’t break my word,” his southern drawl more noticeable than usual. “I looked around the house for them besides I only finished one and a half,” Frank said pointing to the half empty bottles on the table. 

Knowing Frank; even in his current state, is a master of manipulating words to get what he wants, Meechum decides to drop the matter. “Alright, well I’m free all night if you want me to stay with you, I did bring some beers.” 

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you have a few drinks with me.”

Meechum smiles and lets out a slight chuckle, “Sure Sir, I could have a few.”

“Come on then, sit down and pass us one will you,” Frank said with a slight smile forming. 

Meechum walks around the table passing Frank a beer, and then as he sits down he grabs one for himself. “Did you catch the game the other day?” he says trying to make light conversation. 

“No, I must have missed it, who played?” Frank said as he twisted the lid off the bottle. 

Meechum also opened his bottle of beer and took a sip, “Sir, it was the super bowl how do you not know who was playing?” he said jokingly and took another sip. 

“I don’t watch much sports or T.V for that matter, but yeah now that you mention it I do remember hearing a something. It was the Carolina Panthers and the umm… I don’t know,” Frank responded taking a swig of his beer.

“The Denver Broncos. I figured you would have watched that game, you know, with Carolina being there.” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t even remember what I did that day. Did you watch the game?”

“I did actually, I had the night shift,” Meechum said as he finished off his beer. “Broncos won, 24 – 10” he said bending down and grabbing another beer.

“WHAT! Damn,” Frank said sounding disappointed. He takes another mouthful as the conversation dies, falling into a few minutes of awkward silence for Meechum. “I miss her,” Frank unintentionally mumbles as he stares at the bottle in his hands; Meechum just sat there in silence hoping Frank would open up for the first time about Claire. 

Meechum sensing that Frank was about to stop talking he says, “Sir?” Frank lifts his head and turns acknowledging Meechum. “Can you tell me more about her?”

“You know Claire, you have been apart of our security for a few years now,” Frank said slightly confused with Meechum’s question as he places the empty beer bottle on the table.

“I’m apart of your security and was with you majority of the time, I never really got to spend much time with her,” Meechum replied as he grabs the neck of a beer bottle and holds it out towards Frank, gesturing for him to grab it. As Frank places his hand around the body of the bottle and looks up at Meechum who is already looking at him, “I want to know her from your view, you loved her deeply and I could and still can see that.”

As Meechum releases the beer from his grasp, Frank pulled it towards him and opened the bottle. “Alright Ed, what do you want to know?”

“Anything, I’ve always admired the way you talked about her,” Meechum said sounding genuinely interested in what Frank would say.

Frank smiled, “She’s the kind of person you notice as soon as they walked through the door,” he starts to say before taking a sip of his beer. “She’s beautiful and she not afraid to use that to her advantage,” Frank said with a slight laugh, “that’s one of the many things makes her so desirable, well to me anyway. But she always did have some form of influence over me that I never let anyone other than her have, I mean she got me using that bloody thing,” he chuckled as he gestured to the rowing machine in the corner, Meechum gave out a small laugh. 

“She means a lot to you,” Meechum said as he took a mouthful of his beer. “At least you’re getting exercise and have a way to blow off steam instead of yelling at people,” he said jokingly. 

“Want to know what one of our last conversations was?” Frank said taking a sip of his drink, Meechum nodding for Frank to continue. “We were in the Oval Office, I had just come back from the Iowa Caucus and she was talking about how things weren’t the way they should be and that she hated how much she needed me. After it got a little heated she told me that I wasn’t good enough, of course my reaction to that wasn’t the best as you can imagine.” Frank took a moment to catch his breath and to wipe the tear that was forming again. “I always thought I wasn’t good enough for her, I just hoped she didn’t know it,” Frank lifting his beer to his mouth and chugs the rest down then asks for yet another.

Meechum complies passing another beer to Frank, “Oh, I.. Um.. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Ed, please drop the Sir, you’re off the clock and I’m not working,” Frank said as he slowly stood up from his chair and starts to walk around the table. “I’ll be back.”

“Yeah, okay,” Meechum said as he watched Frank stagger across the hall towards the bathroom. 

Frank, unable to walk straight, grabbed the frame of the doorway to help himself into the bathroom. He made his way over to the sink and turned the taps on, cupping his hands under the running water to splash cold water on his face. Using the hand towel next to the sink he dries his face and just stares at himself in the full length mirror as one thought kept repeating in his mind. It’s you that’s not good enough. Getting angry he grabs a decretive ornament from the sink and throws it into the reflection of himself, shattering the mirror - pieces falling from everywhere, even from where the mirror meets the ceiling. “FUUUCK!” Frank yells out of frustration. 

Meechum gets up from his chair quickly and runs towards the bathroom, “Frank! Are you okay?” he said just before he could see what had happened. 

“I’m fine,” Frank says trying to pretend nothing happened. 

Meechum now able to see the broken mirror on the floor, “SIR!” he shouts “Your cut!” 

Frank looks at his arms and hands before saying, “what the hell are you talking about, I’m not cut.”

“Don’t you feel it at all?” Meechum said confused yet still worried, he walked into the room carefully trying not to kick any glass around. 

Realising that Meechum is looking at his face, Frank lifts up his right hand and touches the right side of his face, landing on something wet, he pulled his hand away to realise it was in fact blood. “I didn’t even feel this happen, I mean I have had more than a few drinks so that might have helped.”

“Sit down on the edge of the bathtub,” Meechum said as he coaxed Frank towards the tub and helping him sit down. Once Frank has sat down, he turns around to the sink, turns the taps on and grabs the towel Frank used earlier, wetting a corner of it and bringing it over to Frank. “I’m going to clean it to see how bad it is,” Meechum said sitting next to Frank. 

Frank flinches as Meechum placed the wet end of the towel on the cut, “I can feel it now,” he says with a croaky laugh.

Dabbing the towel down the right side of Franks face Meechum says, “Well, I got most of the blood away, it is still bleeding so I will keep applying pressure to the wound to try and stop it.”

After a few minutes Meechum took the towel away and began dabbing the wound to get rid of the dry blood. He looks down into Frank’s eyes only to see that he was already staring. Franks eyes darting from Meechums eyes to his mouth and back again a few times before he places a hand on Meechums knee and slowly leans towards Meechum, initiating a kiss. It wasn’t long before Meechum hesitantly pulls away from the Presidents soft, warm lips and he sheepishly glances down at his knee where Frank’s hand is.

“What’s wrong?” Frank said sounding slightly disappointed.

Meechum, still not making eye contact with Frank, cautiously said, “I don’t think this is such a good idea,” trying not to offend the President. 

“Now why’s that?” his southern drawl allowing his voice to sooth Meechums nerves.

“I just don’t want you to do something you will regret,” he responded now looking into Frank’s sympathetic eyes. 

Frank nuzzling his head into Meechums neck and resting it there as he said, “You’re afraid I wont want you when I’m sober, aren’t you?”

“You wont, besides if you did I would rather it under different circumstances,” Meechum replies.

“Alright,” Frank sighs, “Do you think I’ll need stitches?” he said lifting his head and pointing to the cut, trying to change topics for Meechums sake.

“I don’t think so, it has stopped bleeding and doesn’t look too deep,” Meechum said pretending to investigate the wound.

Frank stood up and started to sway as the alcohol affects his balance, “Well it’s late and I should probably get some sleep and hope I don’t wake up with a huge migraine.”

“Here, let me help you get to bed. You can hardly walk straight,” Meechum said standing up and grabbing hold of Franks arm to help him stay balanced. 

Frank nods in agreement as Meechum guides him out of the bathroom avoiding the broken mirror shards on the floor. They then continue down the hall and into Frank’s room, Meechum helping him get into bed and waits until Frank drifts off to sleep. 

* Beep, Beep, Beep * 

Frank’s 6am alarm is going off; he quickly turns in his bed to switch the alarm off. He then lets out a slight sigh as he sits up on the edge of his bed and grabs the aspirin tablets off his bedside table popping two them in his hand before swallowing them without water. Feeling better today since he got some things off his chest, he stands up letting out a small groan; he slowly makes his way over to his ensuite and has a shower. Once he’s finished his shower, he goes to his room and gets ready for the day by putting on his undershirt, boxers, a neatly ironed suit and finishes with his socks and nicely polished shoes. Suddenly he looks around the room slightly confused; the broken glass from the bottle he threw was missing, he shrugged it off as he just had forgotten that he cleaned it up. 

Making his way out of his room, he heads towards the living room to clean up all the bottles only to notice that the bottles were already gone. Frank tries to remember what had happened the night before; gradually going through some conversations. He heads towards the bathroom only to stop in the doorway after seeing the missing mirror; touching the tender wound just above his eyebrow he suddenly remembers kissing Meechum and then his memory went fuzzy. Meechum must have cleaned up last night, he thought to himself before giving up on remembering anything more. After deciding that it was time to get out of the residences, he heads down to the Oval Office.


End file.
